


unearth

by kuro49



Series: thirty days of writing '18 [11]
Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 14:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16536395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: In the dead of night, they take a nondescript van and make the drive to Smallville. This is not quite the team bonding exercise any of them had in mind but they are here turning over the soil of Superman’s grave.





	unearth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kakakc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakakc/gifts).



> prompt: Turns out, it’s colder than expected. 
> 
> inspired by the extended grave digging scene based on that bts pic released by snyder of the team minus bruce standing at the end of clark's coffin.

 

 

Of all the plans they agree upon, it is this one they put into action. Death takes and takes and you do not take anything back without paying the price. Of anyone in the team, Bruce Wayne should know this best.

He is still the one to suggest it.

 

“You are not coming.”

Diana says it in that way that could make it into a question if he wishes it to be one. Bruce doesn’t because he never has any intention to be the one to save the world.

“I was there when they put him into the ground, Diana.”

Contingency plans like the one Bruce has is a much needed one. She expects him to do this if nothing else. There is a hope in her wishing that she is wrong, that his plan will work and there is still something to this earth that is worth salvaging from the wrecks.

“I was there too, Bruce.”

Diana is kind even when she doesn’t need to be, kinder still when he knows he doesn’t deserve it. She leaves him to stand alone at the glass case in the cave and goes to find the rest of the team.

 

In the dead of night, they take a nondescript van and make the drive to Smallville.

It doesn’t take the four of them, but they are here together nonetheless. This is not quite the team bonding exercise any of them had in mind but the significance almost outweighs the solemnity to the act of digging up Superman’s grave.

 

The night is cloudy, the grounds are quiet. There is fog heavy and low against the dewy grass, and it all stays still even as they work.

 

Arthur and Diana are standing at a distance away while Barry and Victor stand knee deep in the disturbed soil. They take turns even though there is no need. One of them can do the work of five easily, but there is something to being an accessory to crime that brings people together quite unlike anything else.

Arthur is leaning against the side of the van, dirt beneath his fingernails and the collar of his jacket pulled up and close against the brisk drop in temperature. Turns out, it is far colder than expected. And it shows with each puff of condensation when Diana declines his tilted flask in offer with an almost smile.

This is the kind of camaraderie she misses, sorely. Arthur’s show of hand reminding her keenly of Chief.

 

When Barry’s shovel hits what can only be what they came for, Victor and him both pause to look at one another.

 

It takes three of them to bring it up from six feet under. From there, it is simple. The van’s back doors are wide open in anticipation.

“Should we, maybe…” Barry starts but doesn’t quite continue and it has everyone else turning to look at him. The breath Barry lets out is a shaky one.

“What is it, kid?” Arthur asks, taking the brunt of the weight of Superman’s coffin as Barry backs a step away.

“I mean, it’s not _likely_ but,” Barry feels the chill of the cemetery crawling against his skin in full force. “Like Bruce said, stronger than a planet, incapable of decay, and et cetera y'know. Even if there is a chance—”

Victor takes pity on him, and this almost feels like some sign of friendship extended even if this is in no way a moment for a fist bump. “Barry means, what if someone thought the same thing and got here before us?”

The wood of Superman’s coffin is smooth, glossy even, the only marking marring the surface is from where Barry’s shovel came down too hard.

 

“Open it.” Diana says.

And they do.

The sound of the split of the wood is deafening.

 


End file.
